The Five Maidens of Bryn
by Poiniard
Summary: COMPLETE Five women, captives of a sorcerous dragon, band together to escape from a demon haunted fortress.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Men came for Cerasa in the night, soldiers barging into her father's inn, rousting them all from sleep and dragging her off. Her father had protested, but the Dark Druids were there, and the indignant wrath of a village innkeeper meant nothing to them.

They took Cerasa to the Calling Place and tied her to the stake, a sacrifice. The soldiers left, once they had tied her up, but the druids remained, watching.

She had nothing but her night shift to ward off the cold. The winds howled and she struggled against the ropes that held her. She knew what was coming- she was being given to the dragon. "It's all a mistake," she screamed. "We gave up a maiden two weeks ago, there's not to be another one 'till next season!"

But the dark hooded ones ignored the girl. It was their task to appease the dragon, for the good of all the village.

"But it's not fair! There's supposed to be another lottery!"

The druids said nothing. Something had gone wrong with the last sacrifice, and they'd hastily arranged another. Cerasa's sentence was against the Law- the pact between the folk of Bryn and the worm Rhaega. But the dragon WAS the law, and the druids didn't want to face the alternative. So they'd met in secret, chosen Cerasa because of something her father had done, and tied her to the stake.

She sensed the dragon then. It was dark on the hilltop, except for the torches of the druids, and the night was filled with snow. She couldn't see the dragon, but she could sense it. Cerasa screamed.

The great worm swooped silently out of the night, wings spread, white scales the color of snow. She screamed again as it scooped her up, stake and all, and flew off with her, still tied to the shattered wood. Her stomach lurched, and she knew it was carrying her. She could see nothing but the great talon that held her. In her terror, she passed out.

* * *

Cerasa awakened to freezing cold and numbing pain. For a moment, she wondered if she was alive or dead, but then the memories came flooding back. Fear gripped her once again as she realized she wasn't dead yet. The worst was still to come. But there was no sign of the dragon. 

She lay on a floor of hard ice, as clear as a still pool. There was no sign of the stake, or the ropes which had bound her to it. She was in a large, crystalline cavern, with a floor entirely of ice. Great icicles hung from the ceiling like stalagmites. Her shift was in tatters, shredded by the winds. Her slippers were gone. She was bitterly cold.

The innkeeper's daughter tried to move, but found that she was chained. There was an iron collar around her neck, and from it hung a heavy chain that went straight down into the solid, smooth ice. She tugged, but the ice held the chain as firmly as stone. She saw her own face reflected in the ice- short black hair, olive skin, dark almond-shaped eyes.

"I see you're awake."

Cerasa nearly jumped. She turned to look. There, but a few paces away, sat another girl. "You were the one they sacrificed two weeks ago," Cerasa said.

"Has it been that long?" The other girl was little older than Cerasa. She had fair skin and short brown hair. She was thin, but she had only the look of hunger, not starvation, about her. There was a vacancy, a numbness, in her blue eyes.

The other girl was also chained to the ice, but instead of a collar about her neck she had manacles on her wrists, each fixed to a chain embedded in the ice. She had nothing on but a ripped tunic. She had bruises and had been marked by whips. "My name's Henna," she said.

"I'm Cerasa."

"From the inn? I'm sorry."

"How come I'm still alive? And you?"

Henna shrugged. "I've not seen or felt the dragon since it brought me here. The thing has goblin servants- they're the ones who chained me here. And you." She glanced towards an opening in the ice walls, where a narrow stair ascended into rock. "So, I've been just waiting here, and praying to the Goddess." That was a thing few would admit, for it was forbidden.

"You look pretty bad," Cerasa said, testing her bonds again. "But you've not starved yet. Does this goddess of yours bring food?"

"The goblins bring food, after a fashion. Water too, every now and then. They have sport with me, but not for long, then they leave me the food and they hurry back up the stairs. I think they're afraid they'll be here when the dragon finally comes for me."

"Why hasn't it eaten us yet?"

"I wonder that myself," Henna said. "I've been imprisoned here alone, waiting for it to come for me, but it hasn't. There's been no dragon."

"You were taken on the Solstice," Cerasa said. "You were the last one before me, I saw the Lottery."

"My name was chosen. But then, why are you here? It's only supposed to be one maiden a season."

"That's what I'm trying to figure out. Why sacrifice the two of us so close together? In all my life, I've never heard such a thing. Not in a hundred years, they say. And then, the dragon hasn't even eaten you yet." She frowned. "When you were staked out for the worm, wasn't there some commotion? An attempt to rescue you?"

"If there was, I missed it," Henna said. "Honestly, I was so terrified, an army of knights could have tried to rescue me and I wouldn't have noticed. I didn't see much of anything." She shuddered.

"I understand," Cerasa said, nodding. "So, you're not part of the resistance, then?"

"No!"

"Just a myth, then, I suppose," Cerasa said. "Well, something's up. The dragon hasn't gobbled you up, and the Dark Druids thought the worm needed a second maiden in the same month. Unfortunately, they picked me."

"Well, the Goddess will look out for us both."

"Whatever," Cerasa said, unconvinced. Then, she started looking for a way to escape. Looking at the walls, she noticed shapes in the ice- hulking, indistinct shapes that didn't move. Though encased behind feet of solid glacial ice, there was a menace in them. A chill ran down her spine. "What are those?"

"I don't know," Henna said. Her voice dropped to a whisper, and she covered herself. "Sometimes I feel they are watching me. I don't like to look at the shapes."

"They ever move?"

Henna shook her head and clasped her hands tightly in prayer. She held her eyes shut tight.

"Well, if they don't bother us…" Cerasa's voice trailed off as she noticed something else, protruding from the floor of ice, just a few paces away. It was the hilt of a sword embedded in the ice. "What's that?"

Henna opened her eyes and looked where the dark-haired girl was pointing. "I think it's a sword. It wasn't there when I got here, but I didn't see how it got there, either. It just appeared when I woke up, a few days ago, I guess. Just like that, sticking out of the ice."

"Or stuck in," Cerasa said. Gingerly, she slid across the ice, making her way towards the hilt until the chain on her neck drew taught. Stretching as far as she could, she couldn't grasp it. Even trying to touch it with her feet, the sword remained just beyond her reach. The hilt was gold, and the blade beneath the ice seemed white.

"I can't reach it either, I've tried," Henna said. The chains on her wrists didn't allow her to get any closer. "Here, look at this." She pointed out what looked like a second sword, a black sword, under the ice beneath where they sat.

"That one looks like its been there a while," Cerasa said.

"Even if we weren't chained, there's still no way we could get the black one out," Henna said. "And I doubt we'd have the strength to pull the white sword free."

"Well, I still mean to escape from here," Cerasa said. "Have you tried picking the locks on your shackles?"

Henna shook her head. "They have no locks. It's like they were put on us in one piece." She looked over at Cerasa, who had pulled a small lockpick from her hair. "You can pick locks?"

Cerasa nodded. "Won't do us any good, though. Can't spring a chain with no lock."

"Do you really think we can escape from here, before the dragon comes?" Henna asked. For the first time in two weeks, hope shone in her blue eyes.

"I'm an optimist," Cerasa grinned, trying her lockpick on the ice around her neck chain. She marred the crystal-smooth surface of the ice with the tiniest of scratches. "It's a lockpick, not an icepick, but it'll have to do. We have to get out of here if I'm ever going to get my revenge against those damned druids."

Henna smiled a little as her companion began to work, doggedly scraping away at the ice beneath them.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

The huntsman's daughter squinted, trying to block out the glare of the sun and the roar of the crowd. Lureti stumbled to the sand as a hobgoblin overseer clubbed her from behind.

"Get out there an' fight, human," the black-armored humanoid snarled. "The crowd's expectin' a good show. Make sure you give 'em one!" He tossed a double-bladed axe on the ground in front of her. "That's to even the odds a bit. At least draw some blood before you get yer guts ripped out."

Laughing, the hobgoblin slammed down the portcullis between them. She was locked in the arena, but she was not alone.

Lureti had been hunting too close to the lands of the sorcerer-queen. Hobgoblin soldiers captured her and brought her to their gladiator pits, to die in bloody sport. She brushed a stray strand of her long, reddish hair from her eyes with a pale-skinned hand.

It was almost dreamlike, things had changed so quickly. She still wore her hunting leathers, though she'd lost her cloak, and they'd taken everything else from her. One day, she was out hunting, the next she was in the arena about to die. She picked up the axe. "At least I'll shed some of their blood before they rip my guts out."

Lureti rose into a fighting crouch and surveyed her opponents, who had just come into the pit across from her, through two opposing portals. Like her own, gates clanged down behind the other fighters as well.

One was a wolf- a great, grey timber wolf of the forest, snarling with rage. "By the Goddess," she swore. It was a big one. The thing's eyes almost glowed red. She'd fought wolves before, with bow and spear, but never with an axe. And never one so big. Lureti wondered whether the hobgoblins had bred the animal for their pits, or if they'd captured it in the wilds. If that was the case, she hoped many hobgoblins had died trying to take it. She hadn't managed to bring down a single one. It was a shame to see a wolf like that reduced to fighting like a dog.

The woman turned her eyes to size up her other opponent, and her blood froze. This was no creature of the natural world. She had no doubt the thing had been bred in the dungeons of the sorceress- bred to kill. It was bipedal and vaguely humanoid, but any resemblance to mortal man stopped there. Its black eyes squinted out over an owlish beak designed to kill. It carried no weapon- the claws on its bestial hands were sharp as swords. The beast lumbered forward, bellowing in rage and senseless fury.

The wolf circled around to her left, keeping both opponents in sight, staying equidistant from both. The wolf snarled like a mad thing, its hackles up, fangs bared. Lureti did the same, in her own fashion. She flipped her axe from one hand to the other and back again, getting a feel for the weapon. The crowd cheered.

Then, the owlbear ran out of patience. With a roar, it charged the wolf, hands outstretched to grab or pummel. The wolf snarled, and just as the owlbear was about to strike it, the wolf sprang aside. The wolf darted between the stocky legs of the monster, biting down as it ran, drawing blood. The wolf turned, faster than the owlbear, and bit again, locking down its jaws on the back of the monster's knee.

Lureti knew then what she had to do. Fighting one foe was better than two, and the wolf had drawn first blood. The huntress raised her axe and charged the stricken owlbear. Her blade struck deep into its bicep with a meaty thunk, shattering some bones and causing a spray of blood and fur. She landed a solid blow, but the owlbear was a huge beast. Its wounds did little more than anger it.

The owlbear whirled around. It snapped at Lureti with its beak, but missed. She ducked under the blow. It swung a giant fist at the wolf and hit. The wolf was thrown through the air, halfway across the pit. It landed on its back with a yelp of pain, but in an instant was back on its feet, again facing the monster.

Lureti wanted to leap to the valiant animal's side, to fight alongside the proud wolf against the unnatural beast. But at the last second, she caught herself. They had the owlbear between them, so it could never face both its foes at once. She smiled at the wolf. This was probably how his pack would have done it, too.

The savage onlookers, goblins and hobgoblins, roared and clapped in satisfaction. Wolf and human were working together, wearing down their mutual foe, bigger and hardier though it was. Lureti darted in, chopped at the owlbear's back, then ran back out of reach. The owlbear swiped at her, or snapped, but missed every time. Then, the wolf would attack it from behind, drawing the beast's attention away from Lureti so she could prepare another attack. The crowd enjoyed the spectacle.

Soon, the owlbear was worn down and panting, bleeding from many wounds. It staggered a moment on its feet. Ranger and wolf stood side-by-side, then, companions sensing their enemy was about to fall. And it did.

The crowd erupted in cheers again. They hadn't seen a battle this good in the pits in weeks. But the wolf didn't turn on the girl as they'd hoped. Lureti reached down and patted the wolf on the back.

"Now they'll wish they'd never given me an axe."

Lureti ran straight to the edge of the pit. She vaulted the wall in a bound. "Follow me!"

She landed in the box of a fat goblin merchant, startling the opulently-robed creature. She brought her axe down, splitting the thing's head in two with a spray of blood. Her wolf-brother landed beside her, a grey and white blur. Snarling, it tore the throat from the merchant's bodyguard before he could even draw his sword. The other goblins in the box scrambled away, noncombatants screeching in terror, calling for the guards.

Lureti grinned at her wolf, brandishing her axe. The wolf howled beside her. Black armored hobgoblins were making their way towards them, knocking spectators aside in ruthless haste. Behind her, the gates to the pit were raised, and squads of hobgoblin soldiers rushed onto the sand. Higher up in the arena, leather-clad goblin warriors, surprised, hastily unlimbered their bows.

"Come on, boy," Lureti said. "We've got to get out of here." Ducking arrows, the pair fled into a tunnel. Torches lined the walls, and unarmed goblins cringed before Lureti and the wolf, or turned and fled in terror. But the hobgoblins were right behind them. Lureti could hear the clanking of their armor, and the metallic rasp of swords being drawn.

They turned a corner and ran into a hobgoblin guardsman, wearing the livery of the sorcerer-queen. The grey-skinned warrior was surprised, but he was also a veteran campaigner. Twisting aside, the hobgoblin brought his serrated cutlass down on the wolf.

Lureti blocked the blow with her axe. The wolf leapt, hitting the guard full in the chest and knocking him to the ground. The hobgoblin, on his back beneath a hundred pounds of wolf, was unable to bring his weapon to bear. The cured leather armor was proof against the wolf's fangs, but not Lureti's axe. She chopped off the hobgoblin's head.

Beside the soldier was an iron grate set into the floor. Lureti heaved it aside and peered down into the darkness. The wolf whimpered.

"You smell something down there, my friend?" She paused a moment, hesitant to go against the wolf's natural instincts. "Whatever's down there, it's better than staying here. We can't fight off the entire garrison."

Taking a deep breath, Lureti dropped down into the catacombs beneath the arena. It was an awkward, tight fit, but she was able to fit through, with her axe. Whimpering, and wondering why it did so, the wolf followed her. What it smelled down there was something worse than sorcery.

The hobgoblins, pounding down the tunnel, reached the grate a moment after the wolf slipped through. Arrows and throwing daggers clattered off the stones beside Lureti's head, but she kept running.

"Damn you fat pigs," the hobgoblin sergeant shouted. "Get after them!"

"It's too small," protested another. "I can't fit!"

The hobgoblin chief summoned some smaller goblins to squeeze into the tunnels, but when they arrived, they flatly refused to follow the girl down into the catacombs, no matter how much the hobgoblins whipped them. By the time the sergeant had vented his impotent fury, the girl and the wolf were long gone.

* * *

"See, wolf, it's not so bad down here. I don't know what you were so afraid of." Her companion remained dubiously silent, padding along beside her.

The catacombs stretched on for what seemed like miles, going more or less straight north, in the direction of the sorcerer-queen's palace. The tunnels had a perceptible descent. The walls were of ancient make, worked stone walls with a floor of naked dirt. The ceiling was supported by crude timbers.

Lureti found a torch in a sconce near where they'd entered, and had managed to get it alight. There were large niches built into the walls at even intervals, but after spotting some bones and what looked like a skull in the first one, Lureti tried to avoid thinking about what lay in the walls all around them.

For an hour, there was no sign of any pursuit from behind. The air grew colder as they made their way, and Lureti shivered, wishing she had a cloak. She patted the wolf's fur affectionately.

They didn't stop until they came to the first branching of the tunnels. The wolf sniffed the air while Lureti tried to decide which passage to take next.

"We must be almost under the mountain by now. But which way leads to the surface?" Both of the passageways before them continued down, although neither one steeply.

"That way to the left seems like its just more of the same, and that one to the right feels like it has a cold breeze coming up it," she told the wolf. "That makes me think perhaps the right hand is the way to go."

Her companion sniffed the air. It snarled down the way Lureti intended to take, but the wolf set his feet and steadfastly refused to take the darker left-hand passage.

"That settles it, then," Lureti said.

Then her wolf, who had been peering intently down the left-hand way, snarled and began the most horrific baying. His howls echoed back up the catacombs.

"What is it, boy? Quiet, you'll bring the hobgoblins right to us."

Lureti had no idea, until that moment, what manner of undead things prowled the catacombs beneath the city and the mountain of the sorcerer-queen. Had she known, she would have given up all fear of pursuit from the hobgoblins- they knew, and had long since given up their chase.

She heard a shuffling sound in the dark passage, and it froze her blood. The wolf went frantic. A decaying zombie stepped out of the shadows and into the light of her torch, and Lureti screamed in terror. The thing's arms were stretched out to grab her. And behind it, there were more of the things.

The wolf snapped at the foremost zombie, and Lureti swung her axe. It fell to the ground, chopped clean through, but another one stepped over the pile of bones. The things moaned with evil hunger, reaching out for Lureti.

She was almost borne to the ground, so many of them were there, and she almost lost her grip on her axe. The wolf came up out of a pile of undead to clear a way for her. Lureti chopped another zombie and fled down the right-hand passage, over a dozen of the hungry guardians clutching at her heels.

"We've got to run for it!" But the wolf had stopped. It stood there, blocking her pursuers, keeping the zombies at bay. The wolf was bleeding in several places where the things had bitten him.

"Come on, wolf!" Lureti yelled.

The wolf made no move to retreat. He only looked back at her over his shoulder before leaping into the mass of undead. For a moment, the way was clear for Lureti to escape.

"Goodbye, my friend," she said. "Thank you." She turned and fled down the tunnel.

Soon, the baying of the wolf ceased, and she ran on even faster. Her eyes were choked with tears, but she never again heard the rustling of the crypt guardians.

The huntress ran through the tunnel until her endurance was spent. She sat down a moment, to catch her breath and mourn her fallen comrade. After she wiped her eyes and looked up, she noticed what seemed to be a light coming faintly up the tunnel. The air was very cold, and she could hear a faint rumbling sound.

Cautiously, Lureti got to her feet and went on. The light and the sound continued to get louder until suddenly she was out of the catacombs and into a vast natural cavern. There she saw the most wonderful and also one of the most terrible sights of her life.

The cavern was huge. The entire city of the evil queen could have fit inside it, and the whole place was diffused with an icy white light. The entire floor of the cavern was one vast river of ice, a viscous flow of boulders and huge pieces of ice, grinding and crashing together. On the far side, in the distance, she saw a door.

With no other choice before her, Lureti climbed down and made her way across the river of ice-lava. The rumble echoed throughout the cavern, almost deafening. She crossed the flow by leaping from one boulder to the next, sometimes atop a massive block of ice sticking up from the icy river. Rocks and icebergs tilted and crashed together with great force.

She considered throwing away her axe, so she could use both hands to get a firm grip on the slick boulders, but she managed to cross most of the way by leaping from one ice chunk to the next. By the time she reached the far side, Lureti was shivering with cold and fear. The icy spray was beginning to freeze to her hair and skin. But she'd done it. With the river of ice between her and the catacombs, Lureti felt sure she'd thrown off all pursuit.

She stood facing the non-descript doorway. Beyond it was a passage made of ice. Without a second thought, she continued on.

Her torch soon sputtered out, but she found that the ice walls shed enough light of their own that she could see, though not very far. The tunnel she found herself in was circular, like some great worm had burrowed out a tube through solid ice. That's what the tunnel seemed to be constructed of- pure, clear ice- walls, ceiling and floor. It sloped upward, though, and that gave Lureti some hope that she'd at least put the darkest half of her journey behind her.

Only gradually did she notice the shapes in the walls. Huge, black shapes, manlike but indistinct. What they were, she couldn't imagine. Had some race of primordial giants gotten trapped in the ice? Were they demons imprisoned there by the sorcerer-queen? Or maybe it was just her mind playing tricks on her.

"They could just as easily be rock formations," she told herself. Whatever they were, she tried not to look at them. "No wonder the goblins are afraid to come down here."


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

"Cerasa, I think you've done it!" Henna pulled at the chain on her left arm with all the strength she could muster. She felt it move. Then, with a crack, the whole length came free of the ice.

The little thief sat back on her haunches and flexed her aching fingers. Her lockpick was worn to a nub, and she was shivering with cold. The ice around her own chain had proven simply too hard, but Henna's chains, perhaps because they'd been longer embedded in the ice, seemed an easier choice. The chain on Henna's left wrist was the only one Cerasa could reach, and fortunately it didn't go as far into the ice as the others. She'd managed to chip out a hole around the chain, perhaps six inches down into the ice, and that had loosened things enough that Henna could pull it free.

"Now, can you reach that sword?"

Henna stretched herself as far as she could, and clasped her left hand around the hilt of the white-bladed sword. It slid free of the ice as easily as if she'd drawn it from a sheath. "It's beautiful!"

It was easily the finest weapon either of them had ever seen. The sword was straight and slim, the edges sharp like it was new-forged. The hilts looked to be made of gold, with a dragon symbol on the quillons. The blade was of blue steel, but it seemed to glow with a white radiance as Henna held it up.

"Great," Cerasa said, tossing her useless lockpick aside. "Now see if it will cut the ice. I want to get out of here. Just make sure you cut the ice, not me."

Henna nodded and raised the sword. Still hampered by the chain on her right wrist, it was bound to be awkward work. She paused, then lowered the sword. "I thought I saw something move."

Alarmed, Cerasa turned to look at the stairs. "Goblins?"

"No, not there. Over there." Henna pointed to another wall of the cavern. A shadow was moving behind the ice. "Goddess, protect us!"

Cerasa saw it, too. There was another exit from the cave, a second tunnel she had not noticed before. It was hidden behind a column of ice. A woman emerged. She had long, red hair and was clad in tattered hunting leathers. She held a double-bladed waraxe in her hand. The woman's eyes widened in surprise when she saw Cerasa and Henna, barely clothed and still half-chained to the ice. Henna showed her the sword. For a long moment, the three women just looked at each other.

"Well," Lurati said, lowering her axe. "Do you plan to stop me?"

Henna and Cerasa looked at each other.

"Lower the sword, Henna," Cerasa said. "No, we don't mean you any harm, if you mean us none. We're no threat to you, we just thought you were a goblin."

The red-haired woman scoffed. "I'm not a goblin, but if you know where some are, I'd love to chop them up for you."

"There are some," Cerasa said, indicating the stairs. "But they've not been down here in a long time." She held up her chain for the other woman to see. "They chained us here. We're trying to get free before the dragon comes."

"Dragon? That's the last thing I need." The huntress took a few steps out onto the ice, keeping an eye on Henna's sword.

"My name's Cerasa, and this is Henna. We're from the village of Bryn. We're supposed to be a meal for the dragon, but we have other plans."

"My name is Lurati, of the Howling Pines. I escaped the hobgoblins and fled here. Do you know the way out?"

"We've no idea," Cerasa said. "But if you help us get free, we'd gladly help you find it."

"You don't have any food, do you?" Lurati asked.

"Afraid not, but if we wait around long enough, some goblins will come down those stairs. I'm sure they'll give us more than just a meal if they catch us like this."

Lurati nodded and stepped closer. "Let me see what I can do." She brought her axe down on Cerasa's neck-chain, near the base where it ran into the ice. "Well, I nicked it, but I dunno which will prove the stronger, my axe or your chains." She lowered her axe and eyed Henna appreciatively. "That's some sword you've got there. Why don't we try that?"

"I guess so. I've never really swung a sword before."

"Try it," Lurati said. "Unless you want me to do it."

That prospect made Cerasa a little nervous. "Henna, why don't you try it on your own chains first? The one on your other hand?"

Henna gripped the sword in her left hand and awkwardly took aim. The white blade sliced through the iron links like wood. In only two or three strokes, she had cut herself free.

"Amazing," Lurati whistled.

"Now do mine," Cerasa said, laying out a straight length of her chain on the ice. "Hurry."

With both hands now free, through still dangling a few feet of heavy chains, Henna was able to cut through Cerasa's chain in a single blow. The sword was so sharp that it not only passed through the chain, but it continued on through the solid ice, knocking out a large chunk.

Cerasa jumped to her feet and stretched her muscles, able to stand up straight for the first time in a day. "That thing cuts through iron like butter, and the ice- it would've taken me a month to do that much."

Lurati was eyeing the stairs, half expecting goblins. "We should go now. I don't know what lies at the top of those stairs, but the tunnels I came through might be crawling with soldiers- and you don't want to know what else."

"Wait," Cerasa said. "I have a better idea. There's bound to be guards up the stairs, and we may have to fight our way out. It would be best if we were all armed."

"I've got this axe, and Henna's got the magic sword. But what else do we have? What have you got in mind, Cerasa?"

"That." She pointed to the black sword under the ice, which Lurati had not yet noticed. "Henna, can you chop it out for me?"

"I think so." The little priestess went to work, digging a hole in the ice with her sword.

"She swings like a warrior," Lurati said with a wry grin.

"Don't make fun of me. Even with this sword, it's hard work, and these chains hanging on my arms don't make it any easier."

"We can shorten them later," Cerasa said. "First, let's get this other sword out." She knelt down by the hole Henna had made and reached down to grab the black sword. She lifted it out and held it up so the others could get a closer look.

It was broader and longer than Henna's sword, perhaps a little heavier. It was a warrior's sword, with a long hilt sized to be gripped with either one or two hands. The blade was black, and the hilts and pommel were of some dark, lustrous metal. Barbs stuck out from the hilt, and the blade had a little notch designed to catch and break an opponent's sword. The edge was just as keen as the white blade, and when Cerasa looked at Henna, holding the other sword, she felt some inexplicable emotion, jealousy perhaps.

Cerasa shrugged off the strange feeling and hefted the black sword. "This'll do."

The three maidens of Bryn stood there together, armed and free, facing the stairs.

"Ready?" Lurati asked.

* * *

The hobgoblin trooper and his two goblin henchmen who came down the stairs could not have been more surprised. Expecting to find a pair of defenseless, half-starved girls, instead they found a savage looking woman had freed the prisoners, and they were armed!

"Looking for a little fun?" Cerasa tested the edge of her new blade and blew Henna's tormenters a kiss.

The goblins dropped their trays of food and turned to run, but the hobgoblin stopped them in their tracks. He already held his whip at the ready, and with his free hand he drew his barbed saber. "Stand your ground! If any of these prisoners escape, it'll be you who get staked out for Rhaega's next meal."

Goblins, though smaller, could be quite fierce when properly motivated. They readied their own weapons. The hobgoblin narrowed his eyes, taking in the scene. Then the three charged.

Lureti met the hobgoblin full-on, her axe parrying the sword. The hobgoblin tried to snare her around the neck with his whip, but close-in it wasn't much use as a weapon. Lureti brought her knee up, hoping to get the hobgoblin in the groin, but her opponent dodged, and she ended up slamming her knee painfully into his cuirass.

Henna and Cerasa faced off against the pair of knife-wielding goblins. Neither woman had ever seen real battle before, although Cerasa knew her share of dirty tricks from the brawls in her father's taproom. Goblins were not the fiercest opponents, but these two at least knew how to cut down a maiden. Henna and Cerasa probably would have already been knifed if it weren't for the two swords. It wasn't just their longer reach that kept the goblins at bay. The white sword glowed with a pale fire, and the black sword glittered with purple flames.

Almost without realizing she did it, Cerasa shoved the black sword into the goblin's chest up to the hilt. Beside her, Henna swung the white sword almost awkwardly, yet somehow she managed to hit the goblin in the neck. It's head was sliced clean off.

Lurati's struggle against the hobgoblin took a few moments longer, but the ranger's frantic desperation overcame the hobgoblin's cunning and skill. She ducked under a swing of his blade, shouldered him in the ribs, and then spun around, evading his grasp. Her waraxe came down in a wide arc, burying the sharp blade in his back. The three bodies slumped down to the ice.

The three maidens didn't even pause to wipe off their blades or search the corpses. They just ran up the stairs without looking back.

* * *

The stairs led up to a tunnel, much like the ones Lurati had seen before, round with ice walls.

"The goblins came from the left," Lurati said. A skilled tracker, she saw some sign or footprint in the frost the others did not. Still, they believed her. "So, do we follow their trail back, or take our chances finding where the right side goes?"

"There's liable to be more goblins and hobgoblins if we go left," Henna said.

"That may not be a bad thing, anymore," Cerasa said, patting the hilt of her black sword. "What do you think, Lurati?"

"I'm sure one of these ways will bring us out to the surface. For my part, I've had my fill of hobgoblin fighting for one day. I'd sooner try the right. The things I saw in the catacombs were the worst of it, I think, so we should go right and trust in the Goddess."

Henna smiled at that and said, "Right it is, then."

The tunnel wound its way through the ice, heading gradually upward. As best any of the girls could tell, they were actually traveling under the glacier north of the city, that surrounded the mountain where Rhaega was purported to lair.

"We've been walking a long time," Lurati said. "I wonder where this tunnel leads?"

"I don't know," Cerasa answered. "But we need to stop soon, to rest a bit."

Lureti nodded. "We will. One of us will have to stay awake, to look out for goblins while the others get some rest. But we can take turns."

"That makes sense to me," Henna said. "I only wish we had something to eat."

"If we ever get back to the surface, I can catch us something."

"With an axe?"

Lureti grinned. "Maybe. But that's not what I had in mind. I was thinking of setting some snares. The woods around the mountain have plenty of small game this time of year."

"That's if we ever get out of here," Cerasa said.

Henna watched Lurati. "Do you live in those woods?"

She nodded.

"I've never been more than a mile from Bryn," Henna said.

"I've been to your village a few times," Lurati said.

"Trading furs?" Cerasa asked.

"That's right."

"Did you ever stay at the inn?"

"No, we slept in the grassy square in the middle of the village."

"The Commons."

"Yes, that's what they called it," Lurati said. "My father would bring my brothers there, maybe once a year, to sell furs and ivory. When I was old enough, they let me come, too. I've made the trip to Bryn three times."

"I remember those Trade Days," Cerasa said. "The Commons would be full of the shops and stalls of the merchants, and the tents and animals of the barbarians-"

"We are not barbarians."

"Of the Freeholders, I mean. I'm sorry," Cerasa blushed. "I didn't mean-"

"It's all right."

"My father's inn was always full during Trade Days. Merchants came from all over the south, to buy your furs. The place was always packed. Sometimes, there'd even be a minstrel come there, to sing for the travelers."

"Is there going to be a Trade Day this summer?" Lureti asked.

Cerasa shrugged. "I don't know. My father said there might not be, for the first time in a hundred years."

"I'd heard that, too," Lurati said. "But I don't know why."

"The Dark Druids. Last year, there were some scuffles. The druids said the southerners were bringing heresies and spreading lies, and endangering the pact with Rhaega. My father didn't agree with that, but he said the druids had enough soldiers they could do whatever they pleased."

Lurati halted. "There's a cavern ahead. If it's suitable, we might stop there and get some rest. But first, let's go in carefully. It may be occupied."

The tunnel widened into a small chamber, with walls of unworked stone rather than ice. It was fairly large, and had another passageway leading out of it to their right. There were torches in the walls and, of all things, a campfire. It was the first fire they'd seen.

The smoke curled up to a narrow chimney in the ceiling, and beside it was a neat stack of cordwood. A cloaked figure sat hunched over beside the fire. The three maidens approached carefully, their weapons ready.

The figure by the fire was a young woman. She looked up at their approach, but did not turn. She was clothed in rags, and chained by the ankle to the wall. She held in her lap a large, round bundle, which she was rocking gently back and forth. She was mumbling quietly, but there was no one else in the room. As they drew closer, Lurati, Cerasa and Henna peered at the face of the woman beneath the hood.

She was pretty, with dark skin and long, white hair. Her eyes stared ahead, as one who is blind. "Who is it? Who's there?"

The three said nothing in answer. Cerasa kept a close eye on the blind woman while Lurati quickly searched the room for other inhabitants. Henna covered her mouth with her hand and pointed to something she'd found. There, placed reverently on a rock next to the white-haired girl was a bleached human skull.

"Are you the servants of Pala?"

The three looked at one another. Cerasa shrugged.

"No," Lurati answered. "Who is Pala?"

"No? Well, you must be meals, then. Come, share my fire for a bit. You have time."

Puzzled, Lurati and Cerasa and Henna gathered around the strange woman, basking in the warmth of her fire.

"Tell us your name," Lurati said.

"My name? My name. No one's asked me that in a long time. I think my name is Myrella." She rocked back and forth, caressing the round bundle in her lap. She turned towards the skull. "That's my name, isn't it? Yes, Myrella."

"What are you doing here?" Cerasa asked, eyeing the long chain on Myrella's ankle. "Are you a prisoner of the dragon?"

"A prisoner?" Myrella echoed the question vacantly, staring straight ahead with sightless eyes. She lifted up the hem of her skirts a little, and felt with her hand the manacle that was firmly clamped around her slender ankle.

"I was a peasant girl, once," she said. "A shepherd. One of my flock went astray, and I set out after it. But I went too far afield, and became lost. I wandered into the hills, and out onto the ice. I came upon a great chasm- a crevasse, they call it. My lamb was on the far side, but I could see no way across. The chasm was wide, and deep, with steep sides. I sought to find a way across, by climbing down. The walls were steep, but I was a good climber, so I made my way down to the bottom of the crevasse. As I started to climb up the other side, I spotted something."

"What was it?"

"An orb it was, a great sphere of gold. Never in my life had I beheld such beauty. I lost all thought of my missing sheep. I forgot where I was, or how to get home. I pried the golden thing out of the ice…" Her voice trailed off, and she sat there, absent-mindedly stroking the bundle in her lap like it was a child.

The other girls looked at one another, amazed at the strange tale.

Myrella laughed bitterly. "But it was just a trap, you see. A lure to ensnare me."

"Who, Myrella? Who trapped you?"

"It was Rhaega, of course. The white dragon. She swooped down on me and plucked me out of the chasm, still holding the golden orb. The dragon laughed at me. She brought me here to her caves, and took from me the orb, and chained me to these walls."

"The dragon took back the orb?" Cerasa asked. "Then what is that in your lap?"

Myrella sighed. "The golden orb was the bait, you see. Rhaega explained it all to me later. See, she is the last of her kind, the last of the white dragons in this part of the world. Yet she had need of me, a mere, mortal girl. It's not something that dragons like to talk about, but it seems that they do not make the best mothers. Rhaega forced me to remain here as a midwife for her eggs."

"My time here has made me blind, but the first of her children, I saw it hatch, and I nursed it as the dragon's midwife. The oils Rhaega gave me, with which to anoint the shells and the scales of her dragonlings…" Myrella held her hands before her eyes. "They have granted me dragonsight. I doubt Rhaega realizes this. I doubt she cares."

"Myrella, you mean one of the dragons has already hatched?"

The girl nodded. She drew back the coverings and revealed in her lap was not the great orb of gold by which the dragon had lured her, but a giant egg. It was white and surprisingly fragile-looking. "Oh, yes. This here is the second egg I have tended, and it's about to hatch soon."

"You mean there's a baby dragon around here somewhere?" Cerasa asked.

Myrella nodded.

"Where is the other hatchling?"

"The other dragonling is quite large now," Myrella said. "He lives in these tunnels. He will soon return. The three of you will make quite a feast."

Cerasa started, and peered down one of the tunnels. "I think I hear something."

Lurati tightened her grip on her axe. "I've not come this far to end up in a dragon's belly." There was a shuffling down one of the passageways.

"Come now, why fight it?" Myrella asked. "It'll all be over in a moment. That little one is not cruel. He will snap your neck and you'll feel nothing."

The noise in the tunnel grew louder. Cerasa held the black sword out. "The blade hums, can't you hear it? It's a warning."

Myrella took note of Cerasa's sword for the first time, gazing at it with blind eyes. "You have a sword? A sword of power?"

Henna stepped forward and held the white blade before Myrella. "I have one, too."

Myrella's face paled. She held one hand up in front of her face, like she was shielding her sightless eyes from a briliiant glare. "No! He's just a child! You mustn't harm him! Put down your nasty swords and-"

At that very moment, the dragonling came into view, snaking its head around the corner. It was a narrow, snakelike head on a long neck. The body which followed after was certainly no larger than a pony, but it was covered in glistening blue-white scales. Its tail flicked catlike behind it, and its tender-looking wings were folded tight against its body. The young dragon glanced from Myrella to the three girls and licked its lips.

With startling speed, Myrella rose and, cradling the giant egg in one hand, she grabbed Henna's arm. Her grip was strong, and she pushed the surprised priestess toward the dragon. "Here," Myrella croaked. "Your mother sends you food!"

The dragon roared. Had it been a mature white, that scream probably would have blasted the four girls off their feet and brought the tunnel down on top of them. But the dragonling was not even an adolescent. Still, it was a frightful sound.

Lurati was not cowed by the dragon's deafening challenge- in fact, the opposite. She swung into action. She raised the hobgoblin waraxe above her head and brought it down with both hands against the dragon's outstretched neck. The iron blade shattered against the scales of the dragon. The thing shook its head, confused.

Myrella shrieked in horror and outrage. "No, stop! You'll hurt him!"

Cerasa brought her black sword around with a vengeful smirk. "The thing means to eat us," she said. "Henna, try your sword, too. Strike, now!"

The white sword and the black struck almost as one. Cerasa's blade pierced the armored scales above its head, and Henna sliced through the same spot that had turned aside Lurati's axe.

The head fell to the ice, completely severed. The dragonling slumped to the ground, motionless. A pool of warm, black blood spread steaming across the ice.

"How could you have done this?" Myrella shrieked, clutching her egg and backing away from the others in horror. "Now, the White Queen will come for us all! She'll kill us all, and then she will freeze your village in revenge! Oh, you foolish girls, what have you done? You truly are the servants of Pala, aren't you?"

"Who is this Pala, anyway?" Cerasa asked.

"Pala the Red," Myrella answered between frightened sobs. "A worm of fire, Rhaega's most hated rival."

"We're no servants of any dragon," Lurati said.

"You say Rhaega will come for revenge?" Cerasa asked.

Myrella nodded, blinking aside her tears. "Yes, the white will come. She will kill you all, and me, too, for allowing this to happen to her brood."

"Well then, Myrella, it looks like your only chance is to come with us," Cerasa said.

"You're right, but how can I?" Myrella held up her chains.

"Those we can fix," Cerasa said. In a second, the black blade severed the chains. "Will you come with us?"

Myrella, speechless, held the loose end of her chain in her hand. There were tears in her blind eyes. "I never dreamed…"

"So, are you coming?"

"Yes, I will come."

"Good," Cerasa said. "And bring that egg. If the dragon does come after us, it will help to have a hostage."

"There is no bargaining with dragons," Myrella said.

"Nonsense," Cerasa said. "Dragons can easily be bought. For a few maidens a year, they'll leave your village alone. Who knows what one might give us in exchange for her last egg."

Henna and Myrella both seemed shocked at the notion, but Lureti nodded approvingly. "So, Myrella, are you coming?"

"Yes," she answered, wrapping the precious egg carefully up in her tattered cloak. "Just let me get my things." These amounted to a threadbare satchel and the skull on the rock.

"What're you bringing that for?" Lurati asked dubiously.

"Oh, this?" Myrella held out the skull for the others to see. "Ladies, I want you to meet Aris the Enchantress."

* * *

Myrella led them quickly away from the corpse of the slain dragonling, and through the icy tunnels under the glacier. Lurati led the way, with Myrella behind her, hand on her shoulder, guiding their way. Henna walked alongside Myrella, often helping support her, for the sorceress stumbled often. Cerasa brought up the rear.

When they came to a place where six tunnels met, Myrella had them pause. "Now, this place seems familiar to me. But which way?"

Cerasa was suspicious. "If you've been blind and chained to a wall all these years, Myrella, how is it you know these passages so well?"

The sorceress didn't seem to notice the accusation in Cerasa's voice. "It's my mage sight," she explained. "Sometimes, I am able to wander these tunnels in my mind. Other times, I can see through the eyes of the dragonling. Of course, those eyes are of no use to me now…" Myrella shrugged herself from Henna's grasp and brought out the skull of Aris. "Which way, you say? You think that one?" Myrella nodded and put the grisly trophy back in her satchel. "Henna, take my hand again. It's this way, I'm sure of it." She pointed down one of the tunnels.

"What's down that way?" Cerasa asked. "The exit?"

"Yes, the exit," Myrella said. "The way leads to Rhaega's great hall. We must pass through it if we are to reach the surface and escape."

"Will the dragon be there?" Henna asked, taking Myrella's hand.

The blind sorceress thought a moment, or perhaps she was seeking something with her magical vision. "No, the White Queen is not there. At least, not now. I don't know where she is, but she is definitely not in the great hall now, nor is she between us and there. But we should hurry, in case she does return."

Following Myrella's directions, they went on through the tunnels. The halls were silent and empty.

"I don't even see any goblin tracks," Lurati said.

"No, you won't," Myrella said. "These are the halls of Rhaega's brood, and goblins are not permitted here, so close to the hoard."

"Hoard?" Cerasa asked. "You mean the dragon's treasure?"

"Yes. It is in the great hall, a heap of gold as big as a hill, where Rhaega sleeps when she is home."

"And this gold is between us and the exit?"

Myrella nodded.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Cerasa asked. "Let's go!"

It was not long before they found it, the largest cavern any of them had yet seen, a massive cavern beneath the raw ice of the glacier. It was so big, the ceiling overhead was shrouded in mist.

"All of Bryn could fit in this cavern," Henna said, wonderingly. "The whole village and all the outlying farms."

Myrella nodded again. "I wish I could see it as you do. Is it beautiful?"

"Yes, in a way," Henna answered. "I remember this place, from when the dragon first brought me here."

"Me too," Cerasa said, shuddering.

"This is where the dragon sleeps," Myrella said. "But she is not here."

One end of the chamber formed a smooth face of worked stone, like the walls of some ancient city, buried long ago by the glacier. Nothing stirred in all the vast chamber, and it was silent. The floor of the cavern was like the plains before the gate. In the midst of it was a high, glittering mound.

"What is that hill there?" Lurati asked.

"That is Rhaega's bed," Myrella said.

Cerasa peered at it. "You mean, that hill is a pile of gold?"

"It is."

"Where is the way out, Myrella?"

The sorceress didn't answer at first, her brows furrowed in thought. After a while, she again took out the old skull and asked it. "Aris said the exit is that way," she said, pointing. "Not through the city, but the other way. The cave mouth is on the opposite side."

"Just past the gold," Cerasa said.

"What's in the city?" Henna asked.

Myrella rubbed the skull again, mumbling to it, before putting Aris back in her bag. "We should not go into the city, we should go now, the other way. We should just cross this cavern and go."

"I'm all for that," Henna said.

Cerasa glanced at Lurati, and saw that the red-haired huntress was eyeing the great, faraway mound of gold. The two girls smiled. "Let's go then," Cerasa said. "It's a long walk to the far side. And I don't care what your old bones are telling you, Myrella. I'm taking some of that gold with me."

* * *

Henna just stood, open-mouthed, gazing up at the huge pile of gold that was the dragon's treasure. Lurati eyed the mound with suspicion- her elders told tales of curses that lay on such things, and the lure of gold held little sway over the huntress of the Howling Pines. Myrella just stood quietly, one hand on Henna's shoulder, the other cradling Rhaega's last egg. What her dragonsight revealed in that great pile of priceless gold and jewels, she didn't say.

Cerasa, though, squeaked with joy at finding such a treasure unguarded, and she waded into the hoard like it was a snowbank. "Can you believe this? Never in my life have I imagined so much wealth! Why, with this gold, I could buy back my father's inn. I could buy Bryn! I could move far away, and live like a princess!" She held up a handful of cut gemstones, not one of them smaller than her thumbnail. "How will we get this out of here? Come and help me, we've got to take whatever we can carry. This is the chance of a lifetime!" She looked down at the others. "Well, don't just stand there, help me find something to carry some of it in!"

The dark-haired girl dropped the gems reluctantly, having no pouch to store them in, and began selecting jewelry from the pile instead. She put on as many golden necklaces as she could find, and shoved bracelets on her arms past her elbows. She jammed a ring on every finger, and over that she slipped on a long pair of expensive gloves. She wrapped three fine belts around her slender waist, and tucked a pair of supple leather boots into them.

Cerasa's enthusiasm was infectious, and Lurati leaned down to pluck a large stone from the pile. When nothing happened, she tucked it into her girdle.

"Ah, this is what I was looking for!" Cerasa exclaimed. She lifted a small, golden casket, studded with jewels, from the hoard, and began filling it with precious jems. "None of you want any? There's plenty for all." She grinned and plucked a golden tiara from the pile and stuck it on her head. "Well, don't expect me to share any of this when we get out of here. If any of you want any of this, you'll have to carry it for yourselves. I'm not a pack mule, you know."

"I think I'd like this," Lurati said. She drew out of the heap a large axe with black blades, bigger than the hobgoblin waraxe she'd been using. "Since mine broke, I'll be needing a new one."

Myrella had been peering intently at the hoard the whole time. Gingerly, she reached for a wooden staff that lay near the bottom of the mound. She tapped it on the floor and nodded approvingly. "There is nothing else here that I want."

"Nor I," said Henna. "Come on, Cerasa, that's enough. We'd better be on our way. Myrella said the dragon could return any time. I'd rather have my life than all the gold in this pile."

Then, they heard it- a great rumbling that was unmistakeable.

"It's the dragon!" Lurati cried.

"I knew she would come," said Myrella.

Henna stood there, paralyzed with fear. Lurati hefted her new axe in both hands and turned towards the noise, as if she actually intended to face the dragon.

"Run, you fools!" Cerasa said, leaping down from the pile of gold. She grabbed Lurati by the arm and began pulling her away from the sound.

"Where are we going?"

"To the city," Cerasa said. "Maybe we can hide there."

"Aris doesn't think that wise," Myrella said. "Better to stay here and meet our fate. Running will only make things worse."

"Well, she's gonna hafta earn her supper," Cerasa said, shepherding the others in the direction of the mysterious buried city. "Run!"

The four girls fled with all the speed they could muster, and they could sense the dragon's presence, even before Rhaega entered the vast cavern far behind them.

Henna's face was white with terror, and Cerasa's knees were shaking. She couldn't help but remember the last time she'd been caught by the white dragon. But this time, she wasn't helpless and bound to a stake. Nor did she forget the heavy black sword in her hand. But she lacked Lurati's bravery- or maybe the huntress lacked a Brynner's good common sense. Either way, Cerasa wasn't about to stand and fight a dragon if she could avoid it. So she ran. They all ran.

The four girls reached the gates of the city before the dragon spotted them. They ignored the huge, formidable stone walls looming above them, their battlements half-encased in ice. Before the gates stood an innocuous pedestal carved with ancient runes. Atop it sat a strange thing- a thick, rectangular tablet of iron that glowed with an eerie green light, something they had not noticed before. From their old vantage point on the mound, the strange pedestal was dwarfed by the immensity of the gates.

There was something about the pedestal that made Cerasa pause. Despite her terror, she stopped to look at the runes. Her eyes widened in surprise at what she saw.

"Cerasa, come on!" Henna urged.

Still wondering what it meant, Cerasa shrugged and ran after her companions, into the silent ruins of the city under the glacier.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

The door opened into a stone-walled chamber, humid and dark but surprisingly warm. A lit brazier in the center of the room cast everything in a flickering orange light. Two human figures were chained to the far wall, hanging by their arms. One looked to be a middle-aged human knight- he wore the tattered remains of a scarlet tunic emblazoned with a golden phoenix. His hair was brown, with grey at the temples. The man's face had once been handsome, but it was swollen and bruised, and leaning forward- not moving. The knight was obviously dead, because a sword was impaled through his chest, pinning the body to the wall.

Beside him hung a young woman, silent but still alive. Her face was streaked with tears, but she had long ago lost any strength to weep for her dead companion. Her long blonde hair was matted down, and her tanned skin showed the marks of a gruesome beating. The prisoner hung, chained by the wrists, clad only in a scarlet phoenix tunic.

Cerasa looked a the beaten woman and her impaled companion and scowled. "Lurati, close the door, but stay there and listen. Tell us if you hear anything out in the hallway."

The others crowded into the small interrogation chamber while Lurati went to guard the door. Cerasa went over to the young woman. "Can you speak?"

The girl opened her eyes and nodded weakly.

"We're going to get you out of here," Cerasa said. She set down her coffer and swung the black sword with both hands, cutting the girl's chains. Henna rushed to her side, cradling her head.

"Who are you?" Cerasa asked.

"I am Wilaine, his squire." She glanced over at the other knight and choked back a sob. "Was his squire."

Henna then spoke aloud a quiet prayer to her Goddess. The fires in the brazier dimmed and flickered a moment, then the room seemed to be bathed in a white light.

Wilaine sat up then, as if some new strength had come into her. "Thank you," she told Henna.

"Why are you here?" Cerasa asked.

The bedraggled girl lifted herself to one elbow, and her piercing blue eyes looked into the faces of each of her rescuers in turn. There was a strength in her, a pride that had not yet been quenched, despite the torments she had been through. It was as if Wilaine could look into the hearts of the others and seek out any evil within. Then, the paladin turned her eyes sadly towards the dead knight.

"We are knights from a distant land, sent here on a quest to retrieve a magical golden orb."

Myrella raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.

"Our land," Wilaine continued, "lies under the grip of a dragon's rule, like yours. For a hundred years, we have paid tribute the the fire drake, Pala the Red. From her lair inside a volcano, Pala demands our tribute. Those who fail to pay suffer her wrath. Much of our once-fair land is now a charred desert."

"Then, one of our magicians read a portent in the stars. He told us of a legendary orb of dragonkind that would allow us to defeat Pala and free our land. He told us that the orb could be found here, in the fortress of another dragon, Rhaega the White. So a small company of the knights set out, and I was allowed to accompany them."

"We suffered many hardships on the journey, but when we were only a day's travel from a town on our maps called Bryn, the White Dragon set upon us. Rhaega's breath decimated our column- we were used to battling fire, not ice. The dragon's fear-aura spooked our horses, and the dragon shredded many of our knights with her teeth and claws. But we wounded her, and I daresay we might even have slain her, except the dragon was not alone. She had a mighty force of goblins and hobgoblins that did her bidding."

"The humanoid soldiers came at us out of the forest in the midst of our battle against the dragon. They outnumbered us four to one, and we were broken and fled."

"My knight was wounded, and I tried to help him from the field. But we could not escape. Hobgoblins captured us and brought us here. They tortured us, trying to learn why we were here, and where we were from. My knight withstood them to the end. I think the hobgoblins believe we are rebels from within Rhaega's own domain, not knights from a distant land."

"Last night, our captors flew into a rage and slew him. That is his own sword that killed him, and I think they left him like that as a warning to me. I think they plan to return and put me to the question next. I fear I would not be as brave as my master was."

Gingerly, Wilaine got to her feet and went over to the body of her mentor, where he still hung against the wall, transfixed by his own sword. "Goodbye, my lord," she said, closing the knight's eyes. She grasped the sword and wrenched it free.

The blade was straight and unblemished, and it glowed red in the firelight. "I swear, I will not forsake my quest, and your death shall be avenged."

Myrella shrank back a little, but Lurati nodded her approval. Cerasa looked from Wilaine's sword to her own, then to Henna's white blade.

"I noticed the same thing," Wilaine said. "There is something about these three swords, some kinship, it seems." She held up her red sword. "This has been kept by the Knights of the Phoenix for generations, and Henna's sword I also recognize. From tales of old, I remember it. But the black sword is a mystery to me. There's no doubt the fates of these three blades are entwined, though no tale speaks of it. The look of the black one make sme uncomfortable, but now I think I see the reason."

"In the city above us dwells a sorceress-queen. It is she who holds the golden orb of dragonkind, and by its power she has bound Rhaega to guard the source of her power- the glowing tablet."

"Yes," Cerasa said. "I read that on the pedestal."

"You can read the high tongue?" Wilaine asked.

Cerasa nodded. "You'd be surprised at the things I've learned from the travelers who stop at my father's inn."

"We've got to destroy the tablet," Wilaine said.

"There was more on the pedestal," Cerasa said. "Breaking the tablet will free the demons from the ice."

Lurati sighed. "Then all of us will not make us out alive. One of us, at least, will have to remain behind, to break the tablet."

"I will," said Wilaine.

"No," Henna said. "She cannot do that by herself. The dragon is still out there. Alone, Wilaine would not last long enough to destroy the sorcerer-queen's tablet. The rest of us must stay as well, to hold off Rhaega."

"Even if we manage all that," Cerasa said, "we'll never escape the demons once we have freed them." She looked a little sadly at all the wealth she'd never get to spend.

"Don't be so sure," Lurati said, twirling her axe. "We're not dead yet."

Myrella stepped forward. She had fastened the skull of Aris atop her staff from the dragon's horde, binding it there with strips of cloth. "I wouldn't worry about the demons."

"Why not?"

Myrella looked at the skull leering down from her staff. She pointed at Cerasa. "Because, we have the Black Sword. As long as we have that, the demons will not harm us, we Five Maidens of Bryn."


End file.
